


Short Drabbles I Probably Won't Finish.

by Archey (Archemon)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Fights, Multi, Strippers & Strip Clubs, how the fuck u tag shit nowadays, there be so much crap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-06-28 14:52:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15709467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archemon/pseuds/Archey
Summary: basically, this is a bunny farm lmfaoexcept i wont ever come back to most of thesebut you knowgotta actually store them somewhere other than docs





	1. take one more frickly frackly darn tootin' step right there, and im gon' have to frickly frackly darn tootin' break yo neck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cosmist (Stariska)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stariska/gifts).



> all of these chapter titles are what ive titled the work
> 
> just
> 
> prepare yourself lmfao, some (ALL) are just freaking weird

“Heyo!” Hanzo rolled his eyes, leaning in his plush black chair as he exhaled smoke, eyes lazily trailing from the curling gray to his brother who had two strippers wrapped in his arms stalking towards him with a grin, eyes twitching slightly at the sight of the cigarette, but said nothing. 

 

Grunting, the elder of the two put out his cig in the ashtray on the glass table in front of him, sighing as the pounding of the music from the club just beyond the balcony switched to something halfway decent sounding. 

 

The two girls pouted and whined when Genji waved them off, promising them he’d be back for them soon. Sighing in relief, Genji flopped in Hanzo’s lap, ignoring the chairs scattered around them, and gave his older brother a hug, before settling and hung his head over the arm of the chair, snickering at Hanzo’s exasperated look, sticking his tongue out of a grin.

 

“So bro, how was the deal today?” Genji asked, eyeing the box of smokes on the table with distaste, hands still looped around his brother’s torso. “They attempted to swindle us, again,” Hanzo huffed, also eyeing the box of stress-relief, before deciding to grab a peppermint gum from his pocket was a better idea with his anti-smoking brother sitting on him. 

 

“Ah jeez,” Genji groaned, arms flopping uselessly around his head as his torso slid further over the edge, “Don’t they ever learn, don’t poke the dragon!” 

 

Rolling his eyes with a smile, Hanzo shook his head lightly, “No one ever learns.”

 

“True that!” The younger crowed, body shaking with laughter at Hanzo’s  _ really?  _ Expression, before abruptly stopping, both of the brothers’ bodies tense and eyes shifting towards the door. 

 

The music had stopped. 

 

They both slipped from the chair quietly, sneaking to the door with the brothers on each side, before Hanzo held up a hand, reaching slowly over to the doorknob and twisting it, pulling just slightly to let a sliver of space for his brother to see through, and watched with rapt attention as Genji’s face went from cautious to furious in the span of a few seconds, lips stretching dangerously over his elongated canines, glowing green eyes slitting dangerously as he jerkily moved backwards, eyes catching Hanzo’s, before saying, “They’re holding everyone in the middle of the floor.” 

 

Hanzo didn’t have to even ask who it was; a deal went badly just yesterday, and now their club was being held at gunpoint? Pretty easy deduction, there. Eyes glinting blue and green, the pair smiled a fangy smirk as they slipped through the door, eyes watching the huddled, frightened group of employees being barked and prodded by the arrogant clan members, the Kawaguchi, or the “Water Snakes,” though their clan name generally means “Mouth of The River”.

 

Both dragons sneering with similar amounts of disdain for the unfortunate scene in their club, they simultaneously split up, Genji going to the left staircase, and Hanzo the right. Feeling his muscles tense, Hanzo spotted the dull glow of green across from him and nodded, smirking as he watched the green dots fade slowly as Genji crawled forward, the sound of a blade being removed from its sheath too quiet for the rival gang to hear with all the sobbing and noise his employees made, and Hanzo decided they deserved a raise despite getting captured. 

 

“Damn it,” a man holding an Uzi cursed loudly, startling his fellows making Hanzo’s disgust for the gang grow, one does not push his own men off their game. Deciding Genji wasn’t being quick enough, he reached under his black button up to pull a few sharp, ebony black throwing knives from the belt strapped around his chest and back in an x, so slim and tight it was basically a second skin. 

 

Breathing slower and slower, he carefully positioned the blades between his knuckles from his spot in the shadows. Quickly glancing at his brother to assure he wouldn’t get in the way of the sharp projectiles, Hanzo’s eyes darted back to the man he was previously staring at, and tensed, before throwing the knives one at a time, watching as each knife slammed into their respective necks, and smirked to himself as four bodies fell, shocking the remaining three, who quickly scattered from the fallen comrades, aiming their guns at random, shaking as sweat freely exuded from their face, or well, anymore than it  _ could _ .

 

Hanzo just sat still, and watched as a sudden movement sprung up from behind the scrawniest, before that gang member gurgled, eyes widening as a sword protruded from his chest, then the body slumped and fell off the blade with a wet sound. Genji curled his lips in disgust at the blood dripping from his blade, before throwing the blade at the nearest enemy and darting towards the last one, snapping their neck without a thought. 

 

Hanzo rolled his shoulders, adrenaline pulsing beneath his skin, sending a short, toothy grin to his brother, attempting to calm his nerves. A woman from within the small group of employees whined, “Aw damn, my pants are caked in blood now…” A chorus of voices complained with her, every one of them sending a grin to the two Shimadas, who both looked at each other with a roll of the eyes. 

 

“If I give you a raise,” Hanzo started, narrowing his eyes as everyone's jaw dropped in pleasant surprise, “Will you stop whining like children?”

 

Everyone chimed an excited yes, laughing when Genji groaned dramatically, pouting with crossed arms, before kicking a dead body with a raised eyebrow. “Just pick it up and toss it, brother.” Hanzo snorted at the younger’s look of horror, but Genji quickly scooped up two bodies and jogged upstairs, the sound of a door opening and heavy thuds distant as the employees started lugging the rest, a few cackling as they played with them and threw the bodies at each other with mirth. Hanzo just sighed to himself, looking at the puddles of blood and grabbing a bucket and mop from a closet near the restrooms, and quickly cleaned them up and -- WOW NEVER FINISHED THIS LMFAO C L I F F H A N G E R (tbh though, im pretty sure hanzo just puts back the crap he pulled out, or he made sure they were dumping the bodies properly)


	2. hAnDsOpErA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hanzo's a tool
> 
> that's basically it
> 
> uh
> 
> HE A GO O D

Inhaling slowly, the string was pulled back by a rough and steady hand.

“Pull it back farther.” A sharp, commanding female voice barked, hawk-like eyes glaring at the long-haired teen sweating profusely with a strong but uncomfortable grip on the heavy, golden lined bow.

The woman was clad in black silk with a silver dragon emblazoned on the back in a yukata-like style robe, a snarling golden wolf tattoo leaping from her shoulder to her fingertips in an offensive posture peeking out from the opening and sleeve of the long clothing, her chest covered in stark white bandages for modesty as a tanto loosely hung from her waist, an image of a golden wolf and silver dragon chasing each other playfully dutifully painted on the sheath.

The teen, dressed in a simple dark blue training outfit with a pitch black quiver containing a few simple arrows strapped to his back, pulled the bow string as far was he could while still maintaining a good stance and posture. The harsh woman gave him a look over, before nodding with a gruff, “Better.”

This continued for an hour, the lean woman barking orders, and the lanky boy complying. Soon, the range was littered with arrows, most of which hit the targets in and around the center, but a few were either on the outside ring, or stuck firmly in the ground. Hanzo quickly reclaimed the scattered arrows and picked up the gray case for his bow, putting the weapon and retrieved arrows with their respective quiver inside the fairly large case.

“Mother, may I be dismissed?” He asked languidly, bow and arrows carefully tucked into the case he was carrying. Kiyoko hummed thoughtfully, dark eyes scanning the training grounds, arm tucked in the opening of her robe limply, the other tapping the side of her thigh. Heaving a sigh, the woman nodded, but warned him to remind his brother that they were having guests over for dinner.

After receiving an affirmative from her son, Kiyoko walked towards her husbands office, muttering under her breath. Hanzo walked with his head held high through the long halls, eyes lazily taking in the dragons engraved in the long wooden posts that lined the corridor. Arriving in his room, he tucked the case in the space under the short table in the middle of his room with all his textbooks and papers neatly organized and piled on top of it, a cushion slightly tucked under it.

Rolling his shoulders, the teen sighed, hair falling in front of his face as he stared at the ground, hand twitching as he recalled who was visiting tonight.

Hanzo shook his head slightly, ‘I do not have time for this’, settling his face into a blank mask as he quickly took off his training clothes and put on one of his formal wear, which was entirely black save for the almost-black blue belt tying the clothing together. Jogging out of his room, he knocked on the door on the right of his, and stifled a sigh; he’s been extremely apathetic these days, despite his attempts at remaining indifferent.   
  
The sound of rustling and then loud, heavy footsteps made Hanzo roll his eyes, preparing himself as his younger brother, Genji, opened the door, green hair swishing as the older of the two rose an eyebrow at the snarl on the younger’s face. That however quickly disappeared when Genji realized who had knocked.

“Sorry, Akihiko has been bothering me about getting my hair re-dyed!” Genji laughed sheepishly, a grin stretching his face when he noticed Hanzo’s lips formed in a small, albeit indulgent, smile. “Sooo…” Genji trailed off, “Whatcha need, my dude?”

‘Ah, right,’ Hanzo thought, as he relayed the events of tonight to his brother. Genji shrugged slightly, but agreed to at least show up to greet them. Nodding, the elder walked away, before almost being mauled by a rushing Aki, her short hair tousled as she skidded to a stop in front of him, panting heavily as she motioned to follow her. Raising an eyebrow, he nodded slightly, watching as the relief pooled briefly in her face, before panic overtook it again and she waved frantically, making him groan in his head as she forced him to jog beside her.

When they got around the main entrance to the castle, she slowed down and then stopped entirely, giving Hanzo a once over, before smoothing out his hair, which had flown wildly as he had forgotten to tie it up, and pushed him into the room. Stumbling slightly, he gave a half-hearted glare at her, and watched in mild amusement as she just shrugged with a tense smile, before running off somewhere else.

Vaguely ruffled, Hanzo straightened his back, glancing around quickly, before letting a relieved, sigh escape. Taking a few seconds to compose himself, he stood a few feet from the doorway he had been shoved through just minutes ago, and listened.

Inhaling slowly, he paused, before heading towards the sound of hushed chatter coming from his father’s office. Hanzo rapped his knuckles on the door, waiting as the whispering stopped and padded feet came and opened the door, his mother’s face flushed with thin, angry lips pulled back into a grimace as her eyes burned with a hidden fire. Kiyoko stepped back, snapping her hands with a harsh “come in” gesture.

Walking in, he noticed the elders were here as well, and Father was carefully sifting through documents. Taking a seat a bit away from Sojiro and Kiyoko, Hanzo eyed the elders out of the corner of his eye, noting an elder, ‘Sora,’ he fought a grimace as he mentally supplied the name, openly staring at him with glinting eyes and a knowing smirk. Unsettled, the teen pursed his lips and sat quietly, listening in and giving comments here and there as they discussed a new deal with the Kawaguchi-gumi, who offered to smuggle some precarious deliveries overseas.

‘The Kawaguchi are known for being the best smugglers, especially over water,’ Hanzo thought to himself, fiddling discreetly with a wrinkle in his robes, watching with lazy eyes as the elders each took turns berating his father for even considering to decline the offer. Father’s eye twitched, before settling on Hanzo and sighing, then shifting to look at the fidgeting group of elders, with their pursed lips and eyes shining clear with annoyance.

“Fine. We will take this… Deal.” Father grunted, every word dragging on with clear distaste, and Kiyoko snarled silently, eyes burning fiercer, but still she held her tongue from any potential arguments, and simply made an excuse about starting dinner. The elders grinned smugly, Sora clapping his hands together with a rushed, “You will not regret this!”

By the look on Sojiro’s face, he clearly regretted it immediately, but simply breathed slowly, bidding the elders goodbye, turning to face Hanzo with a blank slate of a face, handing him a document, before kicking him out. Grimacing to himself, he looked at the document with disgust; another target to kill, another bounty to claim. He shook his head, stuffing the folder under his arm and quickly making his way back to his room, before locking the door and sitting down, preparing himself as he opened it and looked at the first page.

Dark, bold letters spelled out a name that fizzled in and out, Hanzo’s heart beating loudly in the silence.

Genji Shimada.

Hanzo growled low, lips pulled bark as his dragons roared inside him; this was a mistake, had to be. No one has ever dared ask a dragon to murder his brother. Calming himself, he ignored the indignation radiating from the dragons under his skin, contempt for whoever gave them this obviously faux-hit crawling through his veins as the dragons snarled viciously.

________________________

“This isn’t a joke, Young Heir.” Sora shook his head mockingly, a smile taunting the edges of his lips, eyes slitted with obvious warning, “Don’t forget; you agreed to take these missions with no question, that, and that thing,” he jerkily pointed at the torn and ripped vanilla folder in the heir’s hands, “Is no family of ours, never has been, not with the way he conducted himself and almost revealed the secrets of the clan, as well as many other notable instances.”

“I will not kill my own flesh and blood,” Hanzo growled, throwing the folder at the elders’ feet, papers floating out and landing all over the room.

 

but hanzo does

 

because hanzo see, hanzo do

 

aka hanzo's a tool (he's a good tho)

 

 

 

 

 


	3. aaa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i just realized that most of these are going to be hanzo
> 
> hm
> 
> ill probably add in an original story of mine that i wrote like, 2-3 years ago then lmfao

Pressing a finger to his lips, dark eyes catching his brothers, the young man crept forward, pausing at every noise. Panic and strained hope clawed at his throat, tempting him to look back and make sure his brother is still there before moving ever onward. 

 

Once they made it out of the compound, they moved faster and faster, becoming blurs under the waning moonlight. He would’ve liked to go at midnight rather than the early morn, but it was impossible with all the missions he had to do before hand.

 

But they had made it out. Hanzo heaved a sigh of relief, but didn’t slow down; instead he went faster, always keeping an eye on his brother who grinned from ear to ear every time they locked eyes. Knowing the worst was yet to come, the older of the two stayed vigilant, and together, just as dawn broke, traveled far, far away from Hanamura.

 

From  _ home _ .

 

But it was just a dream. Waking up with a start, he rubbed a hand down his face, disappointment and shame lining his foggy mind, fingering his hair unconsciously as he sat up, bedding falling off in waves.

 

The sounds of fighting made Hanzo rush out of his room, 

A sudden crack of bone sliced the air, a body falling with a familiar shuddered gasp.

 

And as Hanzo turned slowly, heart seeming to stop dead yet pound hard and fast all at once, he felt a blade being pressed into his hand, the face of his father in front of him, the elders surrounding a bound Genji.

 

_ “Do it.” _

 

____________________

“Now, I ain’t saying you’re insane, Genj’, but have you lost your damn mind?” McCree exhaled smoke to the side, eyes squinting at the cyborg sitting on his bed, “Y’know what he did t’ya, right? Y’ain’t gotten dementia, or somethin’?” 

 

Genji vented, fans whirring, as he pulled off his mask and stared at the cowboy. “I do know what he did,” the Japanese man lowered the mask and put it down on the worn mattress pointedly, “And yet, forgiveness is not for the accused, rather the accuser.”

 

“What in the hell does that mean, Genj? You know I ain’t good with riddle shit.” McCree drawled, putting out the  _ cigarillo  _ in the ashtray on the window sill, leaning against the wall. 

 

“The forgiveness is not for my brother, but for me.” 

 

McCree rose an eyebrow and opened his mouth, but sighed instead of replying.

 

“Look, Genji,” McCree started, fiddling with the rim of his hat, “You can forgive him, and I’ll respect that, but,” at this McCree’s right eye glinted red from under the cowboy hat, “He messes with you? With  _ anyone _ ? Well, that’ll be when I stop respectin’, and kick his ass.”

 

Genji blinked, then rolled his eyes with a nod, laughing quietly, “I do not think you’ll be the one doing the ass kicking, Jesse.” 

 

The man blinked, drawling a confused, “Huh?”

 

___________________________

 

“So, you’re Genji’s brother, eh?” Lena laughed, slinging an arm drunkenly around a similarly drunken Hanzo, who nodded with a slurred yes, before he chucked an arm around Lena’s shoulder when he found his balance was slightly better clutching onto each other. 

 

They giggled, booze clouding most, if not all, of their filters, and talked well into the night about subjects that would’ve previously never even be uttered in anyone’s presence.

 

Unfortunately, they didn’t register this, and talked about a lot of things that shouldn’t have been.

 

___________________

“Well, I didn’t expect to wake up like this.” 

 

Hanzo snorted, unwrapping himself from Lena’s arms, apparently he had become the “little spoon” somehow -- silently agreeing with her as he poured over what happened last night, wincing slightly as he recalled talking about long before Genji. 

 

“So…” Lena trailed off clearly remembering the information shared the previous night, propping herself with her elbow planted firmly on the bed beneath them, “At least we didn’t fuck, yeah?”

 

She laughed at the Japanese mans startled expression, rolling off the bed into a crouch, straightening out her undershirt and shorts, before grabbing her thrown jacket off the floor, along with her boots, watching as Hanzo cleaned himself up as well, motioning to the bathroom so she could shower if she wanted.

 

She wanted.

 

As Lena stepped into the pristine room, whistling in appreciation at the decorations in the small side-bathroom, she searched for a towel ( _ ended up finding a black one with sakura petals falling gracefully into a golden stream _ ) and hopped in the shower as Hanzo attempted to find decent clothes, but could only find an old pair of slate grey sweats and a baggy shirt with some band on it that Genji had given him a long time ago. 

 

Grumbling under his breath, Hanzo switched his attention to  _ where the hell did my ribbon go _ . Frustrated beyond the definition of the word after searching for far too long, he chucked a shoe at the closet, and watched in wonder as the ribbon fluttered out from it.  _ What _ . He shook his head with a sigh, rubbing his temple as his head already throbbed in agitation. 

 

By the time Lena had finished giggling at all the weird brands of shampoo and conditioner and body wash, Hanzo had gotten his  _ metaphorical  _ shit together, to actually look decent enough and still look “regal”, or something.

 

definitely or something.

 

also i have a habit of putting hanzo in like, hot topic shit so

 

yeah

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. hello darkness my old friend, i wrote an unfinished book again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is new wheeze -- contains my oc and all that garbage, or rather a self-insert i n my oc. weird shit, but worked surprisingly well 'spose
> 
> also listen to dean martin, love his music acK -- also warning, there's french at the beginning, so imma have to translate that later lol, or you could use the googz.

_ Everybody Loves Somebody Sometime - Dean Martin. _

________________

 

Myx: Ici, je dois te dire quelque chose d'intéressant--

 

Arche: Ouais?... Qu'est-ce qu'il y a?

 

Myx: Oh j’ai trouvé un nouveau méchant dans mon livre!

 

Arche: ...Ça c’est tout?

 

Myx: Svp, être moins sérieux, j’ai eu peu de temps pour relaxer LOL, alors je m'ennui. Vraiment, j’ai une amie qui a un petit projet du temps, si tu veux l’essayer?

 

Arche: Un  _ vrai _ projet, où quelqu'un avait te dis, et t’avait pris sans doute?

 

Myx: C’est mon cousin, je sais que c’est actuellement vrais cette fois-ci!

 

Arche: Tu sais, je ne suis pas convaincu. Mais je viens, tien, est-ce que tu peux me donner quelque jours pour arriver?

 

Myx: Mais oui! Alors, tu viendras ici pour essayer cette machine?

 

Arche: Oui oui, j’arrive là pour faire lol

 

Myx: Merci beaucoup! Mon cousin est tellement excité que tu viens ici! Honnêtement, j’avais pas vu son sourire qu'à maintenant, merci mon petit grenouille! <3

 

Arche: dont make me come kick ur ass, ma raison d'être! <3

 

Myx: Oh mais non lol, whatever will i do when my frog comes and beats me??? LOL

 

Myx: Être sage, mon favori ami, je t’aime juste un peu dessous la chocolat :)

 

Arche: lol, je t’aime plus que mon chien, honnêtement. Mais ne le dit pas. :^]

 

Arche: à demain, et puis ont peut essayer cette chose que ton cousin avait créé 

 

Myx: d'accord haha, au revoir!

 

________________

 

Mickie groaned, tumbling out of the airport with a less than happy boxer pup whining pitifully as they trailed behind him, dark and gold fur spiked as their leather collar bounced with the tag that read, “Charming.”

 

“I know buddy,” the young adult cooed, putting down his luggage to scoop the pup up and giggled as Charming licked at his face, a giant grin spreading on Mickey’s face when Charming scooted themselves into his jacket so that they were cradled and could sleep.

 

Mickie snickered, carefully bending down and bracing the dog in his jacket, picking up his small luggage, a simple rolling bag and a backpack, before heading out to find Roxel.

 

However, it only took a few minutes before he realized that one, his dog was asleep, and two, Roxel was probably waiting for him at the smoking area, not the front doors. Sighing, Mickie trudged onward to the farthest corner from the door; a designated smoker spot.

 

“Eyy, mon grenouille arrive!” Roxel cackled, a single dull mud green eye slitted in laughter, buzz cut head shaking a little with each inhale of pure amusement.

 

Mickie scoffed, gesturing at her all black outfit, “At least I’m not a crow!” 

 

Roxel just laughed harder, dropping and extinguishing her cigarette bud with her foot, before waltzing over and grappling Mickie in a hug.

 

“I’ve missed you, love.” She slurred in a thick French accent, pressing multiple kisses to his face.

 

“Yeah, I missed you too, Rox.” Mickie put a single kiss on her forehead, and they stood like that for a few minutes, until Charming groaned slightly from in between the two friends, a leg kicking out and catching Roxel in the stomach.

 

Wheezed giggling escaped her, as she cooed and pat the dog gently.

 

“So,” Roxel said, eyes entirely on the dog, “We shall go meet cousin, oui?”

 

________________

 

“Ça c’est eux?” Charles, Roxel’s cousin, questioned critically, pushing his glasses up farther on his face. She nodded.

 

“Soit. Okay, so…” Charles began to explain the process to Mickie, now dog-less as Charming was settled in the house, of how the machine would work: You thought of where you’d like to go, and that’s where you’d appear.

 

“So… Could I potentially go into a video game perchance?”

 

Charles echoed blankly at Roxel, who muttered a translated version of what Mickie asked, before nodding vigorously, “Oui oui, ah -- I mean, yes! Yes you can.”

 

Mickie nodded, “So I just step into this giant circular tube, and you press some buttons, I think of where I want to end up, and suddenly it’s my reality?”

 

Another translated sentence, “Ah yes! That is how it works.”

 

Mickie scratched at his chin, “Yeah okay, but how do I get  _ back _ ?” 

 

Roxel and Charles shared a look, before Roxel spoke quickly in a heavy tone, “Tu ne reviens pas. Pas ici.”

 

“ _ What _ \--”

 

“What cousine means,” Charles hastily interrupted, “Is that you will not appear in same universe as us, you,” he points at Mickie, then up, “Will go ahead, in time, as that is only way to intentionally avoid time problems.”

 

Mickie wearily accepted this, though he had one question;

 

“Can I take my dog with me?”

 

_ “Est-ce que tu peux  _ quoi _?” _

 

_ ____________________ _

 

Mickie smirked, Charming sleeping peacefully while cradled in his arms, and whistled a jaunty tune while Roxel and Charles flitted around the room, conversing in rapid-fire French, pressing buttons and adjusting gadgets and gizmos.

 

Finally, a grinning Roxel went up to the tube and knocked on the clear window, startling a dozing Mickie, “Nous sommes prêtes, mon petit grenouille! Reste dans place, s’il vous plaît!”

 

Mickie whooped, laughing as Charles and Roxel imitated him. The three had formed a very good friendship over the last couple hours readying the machine.

 

“Forgot to ask, but…” Mick started, subconsciously scritching behind Charming’s ear, “This won’t hurt, right?”

 

She looked at him dryly, “Mais non, ça va juste être une aventure pour arriver en l’autre l’univers, rien de  _ mal _ .”

 

Mickie rolled his eyes and huffed, hugging the 2 year old pup closer and wrapping the jacket more securely around him, “Fine fine, I’ll prepare myself for the worst kind of pain imaginable: Trashy fucking Guitar Hero memes.”

 

Charles guffawed at this, shaking his head with a thickly coated, “Guitar Hero memes… Mon dieu.”

 

____________________

 

A choked gurgle, the sound of rushing water, and Mickie could finally breathe again, though panicky, before clenching his eyes as ragged, harsh hacking stole what meager breath he had back. 

 

Suddenly, voices started chattering, rapid toss, and with the harsh ringing that was quickly dying, he couldn’t understand most of what the voices were saying. 

 

“…He…Water…Cl…Base…” Mickie couldn’t understand the context or hear a lot of what was being said, but one word made more sense: Water, but only since he knows that's what came out of his entire breathing system just then. So, he almost drowned. Ouch. Mickie shrugged mentally as an exaggerated face wincing popped into his imagination.

 

Curious about the faces of the voices, he opened his eyes and then hissed under his, still uneven, breath, the light far too bright and sudden, before squinting with an attempt to raise his hands to shield his eyes, only to freeze when he felt something restraining him. Yeah. Okay. This is okay. Mickie inhaled slowly, and exhaled even slower, forcibly relaxing himself against the dawning panic, and settled back into what he realized was a very stiff bed, or was it a table? He was going to debate while he slowly inched his eyes open, until --

 

Until a dog started barking.

 

A very, very familiar bark. 

 

Straining to get up, Mickie froze as his eyes finally adjusted to the light, apparently, normal lighting; a doctor with an iconic look appeared, dirt and blood smudged over the white body armor that covered most of her torso, before Mickie’s eyes caught movement, a green clothed man, also wearing iconic clothing, fidgeting nervously with his hands, catching Mickie’s eyes and giving a big grin and a wave, straightening up subtly.

 

“The hell.” The words escaped Mickie before he could stop them, and he couldn’t help but wince with the only other people in the room at how bad it crackled and warbled; he mentally giggled when he realized he didn’t sound human anymore, more werewolf-y. Like Twilight. If Twilight fluffs could speak.

 

“Speaking of fluff,” Mickie muttered under his breath, a small sigh of relief coming from him as he spotted Charming walking into the room, which was… Paling, Mickie gagged audibly, as he realized he was  _ flying _ . The woman in white pressed a button, a hiss coming as the links around his joints fell into the table, but he only noticed  when a bucket was pressed into his hands, and mused that at least he said a garbled thank you before vomiting into the plastic tub.

 

Eventually, Mickie ended up dry heaving after a minute or two, and finally calmed himself down that it wasn’t more than a twitch in his throat. A strained wheeze replaced what was meant to be a word of appreciation when the bucket was taken from him, and water and a pill was instead in his hands. Staring for a moment at the blank pill, he decided to hell with it and threw it in his mouth, chugging down the water and oval pill.

 

When the convulsing stopped, and the rocking didn’t make Mickie sick almost immediately after, his eyes widened as he pat his stomach, then groaned in relief and messaged his throat, which was sore even after the cooling water, which he drained from the cup.

 

Someone cleared their throat.

 

Looking up, Mickie almost choked when he finally realized why the two people, now three -- in the room looked so familiar. A large ape with glasses took up most of the leftover space in the medbay, shuffling awkwardly as he,  _ Winston _ , Mickie recalled, bared his teeth in what would be considered a smile, if not for the large, white fangs. Mickie quickly sat up onto his knees, the world spinning mildly, and gave the gorilla his full attention, which wasn’t that hard considering the other two had taken Charming to the next bed table thing over, if Mickie had to guess as there was soft chuffing coming from behind the curtain.

 

“I have a few questions,” the deep, rumbling voice startled Mickie, who quickly tuned into what was being said, “If you would answer them, I’d be most appreciative.”

 

Nodding slowly, he watched Winston visibly relax, a slightly more tame smile cast his way, before he pushed his rectangular frames back, “Do you know how you got here?”

 

Mickie tilted his head slightly, dragging his tongue across his teeth as he thought of a reply, before wincing as he spoke as loudly as he could with his throat throbbing, which was barely louder than a whisper, “Friend’s cousin.”

 

Winston sniffed, eyes narrowed slightly, but continued, “Do you know what this symbol is?” A cloth with a white T in a sharp font over what could have been a badge was placed in front of him.

 

Mickie’s finger twitched slightly, before hesitantly nodding his head, refusing to trust his already small voice.

 

This continued for a few minutes, the gorilla seemed to get more and more confused and frustrated, before he asked something different.

 

“Do you know who this is?” A holographic photo popped up in front of Mickie’s face, making him jump, before dread started pooling in his gut. 

 

“R…” Mickie rasped, voice rolling the r’s, dragging at the end, “Rea _ per _ .” A figure cloaked in black with a bone white mask, bolted to his face, hood covering the back of his head, shotgun blurred as it raised towards the camera.

 

Winston nodded, pushing back his glasses, before asking the one question Mickie expected but never received, “What’s your name?”

 

Blinking, he answered, only to receive a grunt of, “Really?” drawled from behind Winston, and Mickie only had to have one look at the blaring red and brown figure, before registering what he said.

 

Clearing his throat, Mickie asked what the cowboy was talking about, or rather, what he was implying. Mickie sighed at himself. “Nothin’ much, ‘cept that ain’t your name.”   
  


Mickie planned an intelligent response, only for the most stupid, “ _ Huh _ ?” to come out instead.

Winston and McCree gave him a, uh, rather curious look, the cowboy once again ready to retort, only for the pounding paws of Mickie’s beloved companion to interrupt; along with the boxer’s body forcefully shoving itself past Winston and jumping on the confused Mickie.

 

Cooing, Mickie valiantly ignored how every breath felt strained, especially now with a boxer pup on his chest, and brushed his hand down Charming’s back, sighing contently with the dog as the soft, short fur rubbed against his -- Wait. Excuse me.

 

Mickie froze, watching the glittering gold,  _ literal gold! _ \-- tubes on his hand, that -- He choked back bile, as his eyes traced the obvious outline of the metal under his skin, before darting back up to the circuit of it on his hand, the tubes connected by electrified circles, and suddenly realized this hand looked far too familiar. 

 

Like an old oc familiar. “Oh, shit.” Eyes wide, Mickie slowly turned over his wrist, and felt the truth settle in, along with nausea. 

 

“Do you not remember getting those?” The gorilla asked, eyes glittering almost as much as the newly found gold imbedded in his hands and arms, and Mickie did gag this time when he clenched his fist and  _ felt  _ and  _ saw  _ the skin move around the tube, Charming snuffling and whining, nuzzling his head into his owner’s stomach.

 

“N-” Mickie shook his head, “ _ No _ , I don’t…”

 

A soft  _ ahem _ startled Winston out of whatever idea he was concocting, and McCree had apparently disappeared during Mickie’s gagging and confusing, which left one gorilla and a very disturbed young adult alone, save for the “new” person appearing.

 

“Perhaps, Winston, you should let him  _ rest _ . He shouldn’t even be awake, let alone talking.” The female from earlier, Angela something or other Mickie thought, snickering mentally at how bad he was at last names, said softly, eyes hard but not unkind. 

 

“Ah -- Yes, yes, of course! Pardon me,” and just like that, the gorilla departed as well, leaving a chuffing dog on his lap, nuzzled into his chest, and a medic -- A sudden green blur darted past Angela with a strained, “Catch y’later!” clarifying that it was only two, well three, in the room.

 


End file.
